RYAN FLIPPED ON THE TV AND SETTLED ON THE FAR SIDE of the bed. The fire he’d started crackled quietly. The “shower” ran in the bathroom. He expected it to kick off any minute. Even he’d felt like he was actually getting dirtier rather than cleaner.
He smiled to himself when the shower shut off. A few minutes later the hair dryer came on. He looked over at the other side of the bed, his heart giving a jump. He wasn’t sure how he was going to lie next to her all night and keep his hands to himself. Early in their marriage, they’d cuddled a lot. Spooning had been a favorite. If he tried that tonight, he suspected he’d get more than a playful elbow to the gut.
The bathroom door opened and Abby appeared with her bundle of clothes, dressed in her light blue pj’s.
“Wow,” she said. “Just wow.”
“Which did you enjoy most—the moldy curtain or the trickle of tepid water?”
She shuddered, sidling along the bed toward her bag. “I think the highlight for me was probably the gritty Lava soap. Brings a whole new meaning to the word exfoliation.”
“Just be glad I got rid of the bug carcasses in the bottom of the shower.”
Her cute little nose wrinkled up. “They weren’t roaches, were they?”
“Nope.” He didn’t tell her the place had far larger inhabitants.
“Just the same . . .” She zipped her bag and set it on top of the mini-fridge. “I’m putting yours up too, okay?”
“Good idea.”
She stowed his duffel on the TV table. “Want a water?”
“Sure.”
After handing him the bottle she stood awkwardly by her side of the bed, looking around the room, as if a chair or even a sofa might appear if she waited long enough.
“I’m not going to bite.” He turned down the covers on her side, taking in her freshly scrubbed face and still-damp hair. “Unless you want me to.”
She shot him a look. The snack bag rattled as she tightened her arms around it.
His lips twitched. “Well, I do seem to recall that place on your neck where—”
“Stop.”
She propped up her pillow on the wall and climbed in, settling under the covers on an impossibly narrow ledge.
He should probably knock it off so she could relax. It had taken her hours to loosen up after their heavy conversation this morning. He wasn’t about to do anything to ruin that, and frankly, he didn’t want to think about it right now. He could feel his blood pressure mounting already.
He turned up the TV, some crime drama he figured Abby would like. There were only four channels to choose from.
Abby fished a Kit Kat bar from the bag and tore open the cellophane wrapper. She’d always liked something sweet before bed. He used to smuggle homemade treats from the teachers’ lounge for her.
They’d had a good talk out by the pond earlier. He’d enjoyed hearing about her job, though the part about cheating spouses was disconcerting. He couldn’t help but think that would sour someone’s attitude toward marriage, and he didn’t think Abby’s had been all that great to begin with. Not that he could blame her, after the childhood she’d had.
But at least she’d opened up. He needed to continue that. Stay away from touchy topics. Just be her friend, like Madison said.
“So tell me about Indy. You like living there?”
Abby broke off a chocolate brick. “Sure, it’s all right. I’ve made some good friends, and I stay busy with work. Not sure how much longer I’ll be there though.”
This was the first she’d mentioned a move. Was it too much to hope she’d been scanning the Chapel Springs real estate guide?
“Oh, yeah?” he asked.
“My boss is opening a shop in St. Paul in a couple months. I’m hoping he’ll choose me to run it.”
A knot tightened in his stomach. “Minnesota?” That was three states away. Practically four, since Chapel Springs was on the far south side of Indiana.
“Mm-hmm. My boss’s family is from there, so he makes regular visits. It’s a prime market for investigative services.”
How could she be so casual about this?
Uh, because she doesn’t know you want her back?
Sure, he hadn’t known until recently that she lived only an hour and a half away. But if this trip didn’t convince her to give him a second chance, he’d planned to continue to woo her. He couldn’t woo from four states away. He wasn’t very good at it right up close.
“Your boss might hire you for that?”
“It’s between me and this other guy at the agency, Lewis. I have a good chance though. I’m a better PI, and Frank knows it.”
He loved the way her eyes lit with confidence when she talked about work. Only why did it have to take her so far away? “Why would he even consider Lewis?”
She nibbled on the chocolate. “He’s got a business background. That’s where I’m lacking, but I’ve taken a few college courses to brush up. I’m taking a summer class now.”
“How do you feel about moving so far away?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I have roots in Indy, and starting over doesn’t scare me. St. Paul would be a great place to live. It’s nice sized, lots of opportunity.”
Except it was so far away. Her comments reminded him how alone she was—her family, such as they were, all the way out on the East Coast. Yeah, sometimes he felt a little smothered by his big family, but he wouldn’t trade them for the world.
He remembered her phone conversation with a friend. Vivian? Gillian? “What about your friends? Wouldn’t you miss them?”
“Sure, but it’s easy to stay in touch now with Skype and texting. You do your own share of texting, I’ve noticed. Got a girlfriend who’s missing you? Wondering why you’re gallivanting around the country with your ex-wife?” she teased.
“What? No. I wouldn’t have come if I had a girlfriend.”
“Dating anyone?”
“How’d we get on this subject?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She brushed off her hands and dropped the wrapper in the bag.
“The answer’s no, I’m not dating anyone.” He gave her a smug look. “There some reason you’re asking?”
Her cheeks turned a delicious shade of pink. He couldn’t have torn his eyes away if he’d wanted to. And he didn’t.
“Just making conversation. Aren’t you going to ask me?”
“You already told me you don’t have a boyfriend.” The last thing he wanted to talk about was Abby and other men. Just the thought of it made him want to punch a wall.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not dating anyone.”
He felt a pinch in his chest. His gaze swung to her. Of course she’d dated other men. They’d been apart over three years. He’d dated too. He just didn’t want to think about it, much less know it for a fact.
She regarded him with wide eyes.
She had been texting off and on. But that could be anyone. A coworker, a friend, her boss . . .
Or other men. Maybe that’s why she’d been so guarded. Maybe that’s why she’d seemed so upset by that kiss on the couch.
“Are you?” he squeezed out, not wanting to know, but needing to know. He drew three long, painful breaths waiting for her response.
She leaned over and hung the snack bag on the bathroom doorknob, then she grabbed Boo and settled against her pillow, cradling the dog. “Not at the moment.”
She turned up the TV as she continued petting Boo. They finished the program and moved on to another, chatting during commercials. He put on more logs, stirring up the fire, and covered it with the screen. He’d probably have to bank it once or twice if he was going to keep the place warm.
Sometime later, when he realized the drama unfolding on TV was less interesting than the woman beside him, Ryan turned his attention to Abby. He watched her from the corner of his eyes. Watched her elegant fingers stroking Boo’s back, her blunt-cut fingernails curling into the dog’s fur.
She covered her mouth in a yawn, and something caught the light. Her wedding ring glimmered on her ring finger. She hadn’t removed it yet. Something warm and sweet spread through his veins like liquid honey.
“I think I’m going to call it a day.” Abby handed him the remote control and slid down between the sheets.
Ryan flipped off the TV and the room went dark, save the flickering light of the fire. It crackled and popped as he slid down beside her. They lay in silence for a few minutes, and he wondered if he imagined the tension that had rolled in like fog over the river.
“If you want to cuddle,” he said. “You know where to find me.”
“If you want to end up on the porch, keep it up.”
It was something she might’ve said at the beginning of the trip, but the tone was lighter. Maybe even flirtatious. Ryan couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips.
He thought over the day—it had been a roller coaster. Something about Abby’s revelation snagged in his mind. There was some thought he’d had in the middle of that conversation about her dad. Something he’d wanted to come back to later when he had more time to digest it. Some word that had caught on his mind like a burr on a pant leg.
Only now he couldn’t remember what it was.
Abby turned on her side, facing the wall. If she shifted over an inch she’d be in danger of falling out of bed. A few inches the other way, and she’d be pressed against Ryan. He was so close she could feel his body heat, smell that masculine scent that had somehow survived the Lava soap.
She was never going to get to sleep. It had been so long since she’d shared a bed. It had taken forever to get used to sleeping single after the divorce. At first she’d told herself she was glad. Glad to be rid of the heavy tension between them, glad to be free of his obnoxious snoring, glad to spread out and take up however much room she darn well wanted.
But after a while the bed had felt empty, and the sheets had been too cold, and the pillow hadn’t been the warm, solid body she’d loved cuddling with.
Now here he was, a breath away. So close and yet so far. Her stomach tightened with want.
Don’t go there, Abby. He’ll break your heart again. Remember how that felt?
She was older and wiser. She knew better now. This wasn’t going anywhere. This trip had been unexpected. It had been hard. But the bitterness she’d harbored toward Ryan was waning, and that was good, wasn’t it? Healthy.
She hated the way they’d left things, bitter and resentful. It had seemed unfathomable that the love that had once filled her with joy had seeped away, leaving only a hollow, aching spot inside.
She’d thought many times throughout the divorce about what the Bible said, about two becoming one flesh. She’d never known how true it was until Ryan had been ripped away from her. It had left her scarred and hurting, and not so eager to repeat the experience.
The fire popped across the room, its light casting shadows on the wall. No, there was no going back. But maybe there could be healing. Maybe they could part friends. Maybe then she’d be ready to move on. With someone else.
Her finger toyed with her ring—her wedding ring. She’d forgotten to take it off. She’d do it in the morning when she could tuck it safely into her purse.